Tinteán

Amhrán Fhoirnise

Ó, scríobhfaidh mé litir go Foirnis amárach
Ó ceannóidh mé páipéar is stampa dhá phingin,
Ar thuairisc mo chailín, a d’imigh thar sáile,
Ní bheidh mé san áit, nó go dtaga sí aríst.

Ó, d’éirígh mé ar maidin chomh moch is bhí an lá ann,
Thóg mé an currach ó Sheán agus thug mé m’aghaidh siar,
Ní raibh mé ach leath bealaigh nuair a shéid sé ina ghála,
Bhí báid ina gcrann ag cur tharam aníar.

A bhí cnogaí maith’ dair agam is togha maidí rámha,
Ní fheicfá bád geallta ba ghléasta ná í,
Níor thóg sé ach leathuair ó d’fhág mé an Aill Bhán
Go raibh mé i gcaladh Dan Mháirtín agus téad agam i dtír.

A ní raibh sé ach seachtain sula bhfuair mise an freagra,
A, céad míle fáilte a theacht romham chun an tí,
Ach scéal óna hathair go raibh sé le fáil agam,
‘Sé an spré a bhí i ndán di ná bó agus lao.

Song of Foirnis

Oh, I’ll write a letter to Foirnis tomorrow
I’ll buy some paper and a two-penny stamp
To ask about my girl, that has crossed the ocean,
I will not return there, until she returns again.

I rose in the morning, as early as the day was in it,
I retrieved the currach from Seán and headed west,
but only halfway, when a gust began to blow,
And there were boats in full sail, passing me out.

I had good oak tholepins and the best of oars,
You’d not see a racing boat better prepared.
It was only a half hour, since I had left an Aill Bhán,
’til I was in Dan Mháirtín’s wharf, with my rope tied to land.

It was only a week, ’til I got my response,
A céad míle fáilte, before me at home,
But a notice from her father, that she was mine
And the dowry for her, a cow and a calf.

Bhí Tom Kelly é fhéin ann is buidéal ‘s chaon lámh leis,
Ó tar liom análl, nó go n-ólfaidh tú braon,
Nó go gcuirfeadh sé an slaghdán amach as do chnámha,
Bí ag ól go ceann ráithe, is ní chaillfeadh tú pinghin.

Cé a d’fheicfinn ach Maitias, ina sheasamh ar an áill ann,
Ó thosaigh sé ag gáire, is chrom sé a cheann faoi,
‘An té a bhreathnódh i gceart ort, nach ríbheag le rá é,
Mar tá tú chomh láidir le athair an lao.’

A ‘sé an t-oileán is folláine ó Mheiriceá anall é,
Níl fear, bean ná gasúr ná seanduine ann tinn,
Níl sioc ann ’s níl sneachta ann, is ní aithneoidís an bháisteach,
Ach grian chuile lá agus é ag scaladh os a gcionn.

Ó, chaith mé ann seachtain sular fhéad mé é a fhágáil
Ó oíche go maidin bhíodh ceol againn is spraoi,
Ach as seo go ceann seachtaine, ceannóidh mé an fáinne
Is beidh mo stóirín le fáil agam, ó bhuíochas den tsaol.

Tom Kelly was there also, a bottle in each hand,
‘Come with me, so you can drink a drop,
So it can banish the cold out of your bones,
Drink for three months, and you’ll not loose a penny.’

Who’d I see, but Maitias, standing on a rock,
He began to laugh, and bowed his head down,
He who’d look at you properly, it is little to say,
As you are as strong as the calf’s father.

It’s the healthiest island, from America homewards,
There’s not man, woman nor child, or an old person ill,
There no frost, no snow, and they’de not recognise the rain,
But sun everyday, shining above.

I spent a week there, before I could leave,
From night until day, there was music and fun,
From now ’til the week ends, I will buy a ring
And I’ll get my love, my gratitude to the world.